Quick to Argue
by Lara1221
Summary: Draco Malfoy is not having a good day. Sir Cadogan does not help.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own these characters or the world they live in. Nor do I own a picture of Sir Cadogan, on the cover.

**A/N: **a not angsty Draco is someone who is not often explored. I think it turned out alright, though. **Written for: (skip it)**

**in-character draco comp: **write a story with draco and sir cadogan**; categories comp: **trio era**; disney character comp: the crocodile: **write about a feud between only two people**; ****hp chps comp: draco's detour: **write about Draco**; hunger games comp: **"May the odds be ever in your favour!"**; every letter challenge: **q**;**

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><p><span>Quick to Argue<span>

Disregarding the fact that Draco Malfoy _already _hated Harry Potter, things were just not going his way today and with what seemed like half the school on his tail, it was pretty obvious, he thought, that he was not in the best of moods.

As if he was _ever_ in the best of moods, anyway; wasn't the scowl on his face a tale-tell sign that he did not want to talk to anybody today?

And then _bloody _McGonagall had to go and give him _bloody _detention — his first one not on the account of Potter, Weasel, or Mudblood Granger in his Hogwarts career. She was a _little _high strung today, sure, but he'd gotten away with loads before.

Father was going to kill him.

Draco's steps resounded in the hallway, his anger increasing rather than subsiding as he left his detention. _Three full hours _with Filch in what seemed like the most random corridor in the castle, scrubbing the place from head to toe. No magic! The fact that he had to be reduced to that miserable squib's level was all the more horrific.

On top of that, Salazar help him, he had to go up and down and left and right this blasted castle just to get back to the damn common room. All he wanted to do was angrily stomp around the castle in peace, was that so much to ask?

"Temper, Malfoy," Snape had sneered in passing.

"Hello, Draco!" Pansy giggled by not long after.

"If you scowl like that, Malfoy, you'll catch flies," Flitwick — _Flitwick _of all people! — had to comment ever so matter-of-factly when _he _walked by.

It obviously was.

So the interruptions had been silenced for now - _finally_ - and it seemed he was home free, but he would have to cut across the seventh floor corridor and down another set of stairs to get to the dungeons, after taking the wrong blasted staircase.

"I challenge thee to a duel!" called a voice, out of nowhere. He vaguely heard the obnoxious _clang_ of metal hitting metal. "Face me, and we shall fight!"

"Dammit!" Draco exclaimed. "Where are you coming from? Can't you shut your mouth?"

"Oh, quick to argue, aren't we? This way, kind sir." Draco turned, and his mouth fell open.

A painting stood before him. It pictured a knight, one from surely centuries ago, with a nothing short of ambitious look in his eye, a beefy mustache, and Draco was willing to bet as much lacking in brains as he made up for in brawn.

"On guard!" The knight pointed his sword towards him, and Draco Malfoy was not impressed.

"Who are you?" came Draco's dry, monotone voice.

"I am Sir Cadogan, the bravest of all the Knights of the Round Table! Surely, child, you've studied me in your history books!"

"No, actually."

"I, Sir Cadogan! Thy who defeated Wyvern of Wye, stole the hearts of three magical women, and became the greatest student of Godric Gryffindor himself!"

_Of course_.

"Sorry, I don't recall the name."

"Something must be done about this at once! Go, Master — what is your name?"

"Malfoy."

"Master Malfoy! Take this to the Headmaster, for I, who protects this great castle, surely must be learned of in our history!"

"No, actually, I don't think I will!"

"Then draw your sword, and we shall duel!"

"I do not. Have. A sword."

"Your wand then, a wizards duel! Come now, face me like a true Knight, of noble heart!"

He pointed to his tie. "Slytherin, pleased to be of service."

"Of cunning heart!"

"No."

"Dastardly knave!"

"No."

"Ye of little bravery!"

"No."

"Why come, if not to challenge the greatest of all Gryffindor Knights?"

And Draco exploded.

"I am _here_ because today, I received a detention from Professor McGhoul in Transfiguration, and then I had to endure that oaf Hagrid's random parades through the castle, Binns's Merlin _awful _lecture, and three hours scrubbing with Filch in Merlin knows where in this castle! Then all I wanted to do was return to my Common Room and sleep, right? Is that so much to ask? No! Everyone in the school, I think, passed me as I was trying to find my way back to the Dungeons and I ended up here, the very opposite of my common room! And on top of all of that, tomorrow Father is going to howl me after I have Potions with Muggle-lover Weasel and _brilliant _Granger and — Salazar help me — _Potter_. So now I am here, arguing with a Knight — a Gryffindor, no less! — who wants to challenge me to a duel! How old are you, anyway?! Good night!"

As he thundered away, Draco's anger subsided only slightly, and his lips pulled into a thin smirk that might be called a smile, if you squinting. Because sure, Potter and Weasel and Granger would still be here tomorrow, and _sure_, his mother and father were going to kill him.

But he could be a knight immortalized with a special kind of idiotic bravery and nothing to do but to challenge magic students to fights to the death.

_And _he wasn't a complete _lunatic_.

"May the odds be ever in your favour, young Master Malfoy!" called Sir Cadogan.

Draco's smile disappeared, and he cursed obscenely.

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><p>Please let me know what you think!<p> 


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